


row, row, row your boat

by ohthelinsanity



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthelinsanity/pseuds/ohthelinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rin arrived unannounced at his doorstep all the way from Australia and told him he wanted to be an Olympic Rower, Haru was pretty sure his groan was an 8.3 on the Richter Scale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	row, row, row your boat

**Author's Note:**

> They just put Cool Runnings on Netflix so really, did I have a choice? (Also I know nothing about rowing, sorry to you rowers out there)

It all started with an impromptu visit all the way from Australia.

Haru was more than surprised when he opened the door (dressed in a ridiculous apron covered in grotesque cartoons made with fabric paints that Ran and Ren had given him before he and Makoto moved to Tokyo) to find Rin Matsuoka, with his dumb baseball cap and his over-sized duffle, wearing a grin that could tear Haru’s quiet and peaceful life to pieces.

Which, in hindsight, Haru could attest that it _did._

“Yo, Haru.”

He rated his own groan as an 8.3 on the Richter Scale. “What on _earth_ are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in school.”

Rin snorted. “Okay, _mum,_ but I could smell your delicious mackerel all the way from Australia, and I simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

He raised his grease-covered spatula and smacked the bill of Rin’s cap down.

 _That_ earned Haru a grin-turned-snarl as he adjusted his cap. “Okay, fine,” he spat. “You’re not the only one who’s allowed to leave the country when he’s upset too, you know.”

While the little stunt the two of them pulled was about six years ago, Haru could admit that recent events in their swimming careers allowed him for an understanding in Rin’s disappointment. “Alright,” he sighed, stepping back and clearing out the doorway. “Come on in. Makoto should be back soon for dinner.”

“How soon?” Rin asked as he neatly placed his bag in the corner of the living room.

“About ten minutes.”

“Perfect.”

As Haru concentrated on not burning dinner, he heard the sounds of Rin zipping and unzipping his bag in search for…whatever; his sanity, if Haru was lucky, but as his last qualifying time proved anything, luck was not something that was on his side. He got lost in his own train of thought, picturing that heat over and over again, trying to find his faults, before Rin whacked him in the back of the head. Hard.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Haru snapped, turning around to find a big ass _oar_ of all things in his hands. Rin’s stupid grin had returned as he twirled and flung it around, repeating moves from that film with the Jedi that Haru had seen a few months back.

“Haru, do you know how many Olympic medals Japan has earned in rowing?”

“I don’t care.”

“Zilch." 

"I still don't care."

Rin just continued to smile, tapping him with the oar again. “You’re about to, because we’re going to be on Japan’s next Olympic rowing team and finally win them a medal.”

Haru wasn’t a man of many words, but he prided himself on being able to read _most_ situations (at least when it came to his friends. Or. At least when it came to Rin. And probably Nagisa). So Haru stared. He stared at Rin’s goofy-ass grin, he stared at his knuckles bleached white from holding on to the oar too tightly, he stared at his tense shoulders, he stared at that _look_ in his eye—

Oh _no._

“You’re being _serious.”_ Haru whispered in awe.

“I’m being serious.”

“Did you swallow too much pool water?”

“No!”

Where to begin. Oh, where to begin? “Just,” Haru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Walk me through this.”

Clearly delighted with that answer, Rin spun on his heel and ran back to get something out of his duffle, returning with a few folded up pieces of papers covered in what looked like tea stains and held them to his chest. “I’ve wanted to go to the Olympics my whole life.”

What an uninformative opener. “Yeah. I know.”

“Don’t interrupt. Anyway, I need to go to the Olympics. I have to do this. It’s been my dream for so long. I can disappoint my dad.”

“We’ve been over this,” Haru interrupted, ignoring Rin’s rule, “Your dad would be proud of your accomplishments whether you made the Olympic swim team or not.”

Rin fixed him with a look that was so finesse, so practiced, Haru felt like he was back in high school being scolded for stripping at the mall fountain again. “Okay, I thought that the sentimental stuff would soften you up but _clearly_ you’ve become more of a hardass these past few years than what I calculated for.”

“And what, you haven’t?”

His cheeks were looking a tinge red, probably out of sheer frustration to which Haru was delighted. Not that he’d ever show it, or admit it, but Haru loved getting Rin all worked up. It was too easy. “Alright, truth is, I’ve worked my ass off to be an Olympian and if I never go it’s gonna _piss me off_ for the rest of my life.”

Yeah. Yeah, okay. Haru understood that. But there was a more obvious answer than switching goddamn sports. “You can always try again in four years.”

Rin mouthed back his words mockingly before he ran his hand through his hair, accompanied with a deep sigh. “Face it, this was our prime time to be the best. And truth of the matter is a bunch of guys a lot younger and stronger and _faster_ came out of nowhere and now…we don’t have spots. I don’t stand a chance for the 2024, and even your chances would be slim if you tried.”

Rude point aside, “That’s why I’m not trying,” Haru admitted, gesturing to his apartment. “I’ve ended that chapter of my life and starting another one. I go to school now.”

“You go to _art_ school. That’s not _real_ school.”

Haru was starting question why he let Rin in his apartment.

“Look,” Rin cleared his throat, waving the oar around again. “I understand that rowing and swimming aren’t the same thing. But they _do_ require the same amount of hard work. Work we’ve already put in over the years! We’ve got the muscle for it, all we have to do is train to…well, row.”

“I really feel like you’re oversimplifying this whole thing,” Haru told him just as Rin took his tea stained papers and unfolded them, showing him a picture of a long boat with over half a dozen people in it.

Strike that. Rin never simplified _anything._

“That boat has nine people in it.”

“Ah, good! You can count!”

Haru took a deep breath and told himself that he probably shouldn’t pour hot grease on Rin’s big stupid face. “I was under the impression,” he said slowly, trying to clarify, “That you wanted us to be a pair team.”

Rin let out a gust of air when he laughed. “Hah! What fun would that be?”

Probably no fun at all, but it’s wasn’t like adding any more people was making it sound appealing. “I’m afraid to ask who you’re considering for the other…seven people.”

“You know _exactly_ who I’m considering.”

Haru hated his entire existence.

“Hear me out,” Rin blurted quickly, pointing to his little make-shift diagram. “I’ve kept in touch with Sousuke—“

“—the one you let wreck his shoulder?”

“— _as I was saying_ , I’ve kept in touch with Sousuke and his shoulder has _healed._ It may be a little too late for the whole swimming deal, but he’d be on our team. Plus there’s Makoto and Mikoshiba with back muscles of steel, and then there’s Momo, Rei, Nagsia. Oh, and Nitori, who’s still small enough to be the cox.”

This was ridiculous. “You can’t just throw a bunch of adequately fit people together and call it a _team.”_

“What? That’s _exactly_ how it works,” Rin argued, which Haru guessed was kinda true. He just thought that Rin’s particular grouping was ridiculous and he was ready to say anything to keep his life of simplicity and painting that he found rather enjoyable these days.

“Rin,” Haru sighed. “I’m a swimmer. I belong in the water, not on it.”

He tapped him with the oar again. “No, you’re an _athlete.”_

“That’s just the broader term.”

“Haruka.”

A silence filled the room at the use of his whole name. Thinking back, Haru could only remember a handful of times when Rin used his full name, and those were times of absolute sincerity and seriousness and basically when Rin didn’t want to admit he was begging.

He was in _big trouble._

“Do you really want to do this? Do you really want to try to bring together _nine people_ and try to make a rowing team?” Haru asked.

“No,” Rin answered slowly, “I want to make the _best_ rowing team.”

There was a knock on the door, followed by Makoto’s greeting floating down the hallway. “Hey, Haru, sorry I’m late. I had to coach—whose bag is in the living room?”

In hindsight, Haru should have slept on it for at least one night, (ideally more like 34, but one night at least) but instead he found himself staring at Rin’s puppy-eyes and the row in his head and he kept imagining all of his friends standing together at a podium with medals in hand and honestly, yes, it was _pissing him off_ that he did all this training and he wasn’t going to be a goddamn Olympian either.

So against everything his common sense told him, Haru took a deep breath and opened his mouth, and wondered when he’d gotten as stupid as Rin.

“Oi, Makoto? What do you think of boats?”

Rin grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I understand this is ridiculous and would never happen. No, I don't care and wrote it anyway.


End file.
